


Comfort for a Heavy Heart

by Eggsyobsessed



Series: Kingsman Collection of Promtps [10]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Beard Burn, Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Eggsy Unwin as Arthur, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Loss of an Agent, M/M, Merlin Makes it all Better, Rutting, Sad with a Happy Ending, merlin with a beard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed
Summary: Eggsy is Arthur, the job has it's perks but also it's downfalls, and it's the first time he loses an agent on his watch as head of Kingsman. He's heartbroken, to say the least, but Merlin is there to soothe his heavy heart.
Relationships: Merlin/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: Kingsman Collection of Promtps [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662037
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Comfort for a Heavy Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic written because of a conversation with limrx, a prompt I was sent by an anon, and just the desire for future fic. 
> 
> It didn't start as I planned, but ended how I hoped. It is light, heavy, a little sexy and all the good things to come with hurt/comfort-which is a true favorite. I hope you all enjoy this one off, because I just needed a break from bigger-plot stories. 
> 
> Not beta read.

It was late, probably later than he'd arrived home in years—at least the last five to be exact—but still he heard the beep of the microwave, surely Merlin would have had it waiting there and made sure his dinner would be warm when Eggsy wandered in. He left his coat, hat, gloves and shoes at the door, stripping off his suit jacket, and a few other layers than made him Arthur.

A position he’d never seen himself in, at least not at first glance of Kingsman or the first time he heard the offer Harry pitched him years ago. It had its perks and drawbacks, as any job in the super secret spy agency would, but he was happy. And especially happy to come home, each and every night, to the man he’s called a husband for just over two decades.

Eggsy watched from the doorway, as Merlin moved about the quaint kitchen. They never did upgrade, what with it being them and all, and only added a few modifications for Merlin over the years. The amputation of his left leg, from a mission accident ten years ago that Merlin was required on, was a dramatic change, and something the old Scot still had trouble coming to terms with. But Merlin persevered and continued to do his job as Kingsman’s quirky, high tech Quartermaster for a few more years.

Only this past Spring did Merlin actually stop going to check up on the current Merlin, and insisting he needed some guidance; which he did not need. Eggsy figured he’d toss in the towel when Eggsy accepted Arthur, allowing Harry to retire with his husband, Percival. The assumption was lost on him, because Merlin argued Eggsy would need him in his new station. It was as much welcome, as it was appreciated, once Eggsy actually figured out Merlin knew more, and virtually ran the agency, than even the previous Arthur.

Yet those days were behind them and Merlin had done everything to ensure the agency ran like a well oiled machine. The effort was not lost on him, because it did.

Knowing that made a night like tonight worth everything. Eggsy propped himself, clearly unnoticed as of yet, and allowed the weight and stress of the day bleed from his shoulders. He’d done this gig long enough, toasted his share of fallen agents, and just had to call a toast of his own; Eggsy's first as Arthur.

There was a sense of responsibility for what had happened, holding himself accountable when it really wasn’t anything he could prevent, but the death of a man never left you with a light heart. It almost tainted this moment, because that thirty six year old wouldn’t return home, that life he lead was gone and stopped when his heart did. Eggsy wiped his face, trying to rid of all evidence that this bothered him far more than he led on, and forced a bright smile when Merlin turned with a plate of lasagna in hand, and a warm, inviting grin that wrinkled his seventy three year old face. 

A face that’s brought him more comfort and love than anyone else in the world. A face Eggsy would love until his last breath.

“You’re home late.” Merlin observed as he set Eggsy’s meal at their small, round bistro table in the kitchen. No need to sit at the formal dining table, it were just them.

Eggsy nodded, kicking off from the door frame, to greet his love. The kiss was meant to be quick and delicate, but Eggsy needed more, and pressed in with desperate force to claim Merlin against him for a moment longer, allowing the affection to linger. Hazel eyes were soft and concerned, sharp beyond the new prescription glasses Merlin received last week—after nights of Eggsy warning Merlin about technology shoved in his face for hours on end, Merlin needed trifocals—and swept over Eggsy’s face, gauging his expression.

“What’s wrong?” The inquiry was soft, exhaled on a breathy whisper, and laced with worry. Surely Eggsy wouldn’t have been able to hide anything from his husband, he’s only seen him at his worst, and best, over the span of twenty six years.

Eggsy drew in a shuddering breath, and brought his forehead to Merlin’s chest. “We lost Gawain today.” The confession caused Eggsy to suddenly be wrapped in Merlin’s long, strong arms, and held with a fierce grip that triggered all of Eggsy’s pent up anguish to seep out.

Dinner was forgotten, likely turning cold as Eggsy wept into Merlin’s collar, as he clung to the only comfort he's grown to need over the course of twenty four years—who truly was the only thing keeping him together—and allowed himself to FEEL that loss. He was thankful Merlin didn’t say anything like: ‘it will be okay’ ‘you did your best’ or ‘it wasn’t your fault’ because even though all of that would be true, it did little to take away the weight of his accountability.

A man was lost on his watch.

Once Eggsy’s sobs turned to little sniffles, after what felt like hours, Merlin pulled away a bit to look down on him, a set of large hands cupping his face to swipe away tears from his cheeks. “Come on,” Merlin whispered tenderly, guiding Eggsy from the kitchen and toward their sitting room.

Like so many other times through their marriage, Eggsy allowed himself to be pulled into Merlin’s lap—even if bones were older, legs not as strong and sturdy, but still like home—and cuddled close with one of Merlin’s palms cradling the back of his head, and the other running up and down his back. It was a familiar position, one that had soothed nightmares, bad PTSD day’s where V-Day haunted him, and made everything right in the world. Where soft kisses were placed to his forehead, a quiet whisper spoken into his ear that there were things we couldn’t control, no matter how we wanted to ensure everyone was safe.

That helped far more than anything else he could be told.

“I ruined dinner,” Eggsy murmured after a time, his voice raw and gravely. It felt like he swallowed shards of glass; he needed a drink. “The lasagna looked good.” He complemented, lifting his face out of Merlin’s neck to take a delicate kiss. The severity of the situation made this all the more precious, like he could never get enough of his husband...because Eggsy was one of the lucky ones. He'd get to see old age in a career that didn't guarantee the promise for tomorrow. 

“I can warm it up again,” Merlin offered when they broke away. “If you’re hungry,” he prompted.

Eggsy nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t eat much today,” he admitted. They had discovered Gawain’s demise early on in the day. Eggsy found it rather cold that they started the selection process for new candidates right then, so he didn’t. He sent his agents home, those not on assignment, and decided they could live without one for a week. That may have been for his benefit, but even as an agent it turned his stomach.

“Okay.” Merlin pressed his mouth to Eggsy’s as he slid him off his lap, and onto the cushion, to warm and bring back supper.

He re-adjusted himself so that his back was propped against a throw pillow, and an arm of the sofa, with legs extended out. Eggsy smiled up at Merlin on his return and went to move his legs, but stopped when Merlin raised his hand.

“You stay, relax.” Merlin set the plate on the coffee table to lift Eggsy’s legs, sit beneath them, and rest them on his lap. He reached forward for the lasagna, and handed Eggsy a glass of red wine—that he didn’t notice him bring in—and started to feed Eggsy.

It was warm, just the right temperature, and heavenly. The bite of garlic, mixed well with the acidity of the Roma tomatoes Merlin used for his homemade, cook all day, sauce. There was just a touch of wine that complimented the sausage and onions he likely folded into the ricotta cheese filling. A tiny moan escaped him on the second bite and before Eggsy knew it he had consumed the entire slice, and had the whole glass of wine drained.

“Want more?”

Eggsy shook his head. “Perhaps another glass of wine, though.”

Merlin nodded, leaving Eggsy to get rid of his empty plate, and top off the alcohol. This time he returned with a glass for himself, making sure to prop Eggsy’s legs in his lap again, and turned on their Bose system.

Frank Sinatra’s sweet, velvety voice flowed through the home system, filling the space and Eggsy's heart with some peace. The words surrounded Eggsy in the soft promise that Frank's dame looked lovely that night. It was a happy song, one that Eggsy sang often just for the sake of serenading his husband, but it were he who was serenaded then.

Merlin’s deep voice rumbled in contrast to Old Blue Eyes' silky one.

“And that laugh, wrinkles your nose. It touches my foolish heart.” Merlin poked Eggsy’s nose when he giggled. “‘Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight.”

Eggsy sighed, reaching forward to cup Merlin’s cheek, allowing his beard to prickle his palm. Since retirement, Merlin started to grow it in, at first unsure how he felt about it, but Eggsy vowed it was dashing. It were a salt and pepper mix, more salt now than there probably would have been a few decades ago, but just as thick and lush.

“I love this.” Eggsy murmured, bringing Merlin in for a kiss—legs spread apart to make room for Merlin to nestle there—and took him in, allowing his love to bleed through the affection.

The music changed, still keeping with the jazz mix Eggsy liked so much, and created a different ambiance. What first started out as an atmosphere of mourning, a bit depressing as Eggsy got hold of his emotions, it slowly turned into something sensual and sexy. Perhaps it were for the way Eggsy kissed his husband, like he’d never had a taste of him in all his days, and coaxed deep, hungry moans from the old man.

It always gave him a rise when Merlin responded like that—knowing that he was the reason for that hard, long and thick member now pressed into his crotch—always made Eggsy harder than a sixteen year old about to get his first head. He bucked up, hips rotated against Merlin, in effort to seek friction.

Merlin mouthed down his neck, working his way just under his collar where a few buttons had been released, and with nimble fingers worked Eggsy’s belt undone, opening his fly, and easing trousers to his ankles. He lifted off of Eggsy, just a moment, to take his trousers and pants completely off, discarding them somewhere in the room, and returned to settle between his thighs again.

His breath hitched as Merlin’s palms smoothed up and down his naked flesh, fingernails grazed along thick thighs, enticing gooseflesh to rise in their wake, and dove in to press a kiss just below his exposed navel. Eggsy was just aware enough to realize his husband was still fully dressed, but the thought left his conscious with a desperate, needy exhale as Merlin kissed down his happy trail. His lips were hot and wet against his skin, leaving an imprint of their shape, almost like it was burned into his body, as he continued his quest to Eggsy’s thighs, narrowly avoiding his hard, aching member.

Whether on purpose, or not, it drove Eggsy mad.

“Babe,” Eggsy mewled like a helpless kitten.

“Shh,” Merlin whispered into his left inner thigh, the end of his beard tickling him. Eggsy giggled, which quickly died off, and turned into a moan when Merlin nuzzled there.

The sensual assault continued up and down the inside of his thighs, lips mouthed and sucked flesh into a hot and greedy mouth. Where teeth bit down, gnawing mercifully, just tender nips to agitate flesh, but not hurt. Eggsy felt his dick swell, thickening further, and the warmth of pre-come pooled at the tip. If he had enough wit about him, he’d grab a hold of his neglected member and bring himself some relief, but hands were rather occupied to clutch a cushion, and rake his nails against the back of Merlin’s neck.

An immeasurable amount of time passed, it was fluid at this point, Eggsy couldn’t think clearly, as Merlin worked over his thighs. Eggsy’s legs parted further, making far more room than Merlin needed, and knew he’d pay for this tomorrow.

Agility and flexibility sort of went out the window when you were forty eight years of age.

Eventually Merlin found his way back up, his tongue emerged from his hot, wet mouth, to swipe up from Eggsy’s taint, over his sack and up his length to worry over the tip, likely consuming the mess he made there. Eggsy’s vision blurred, tunneling from sheer over-stimulation, and if that weren’t enough, Merlin swallowed him whole with no warning.

“Oh fuck!” Eggsy called out with a breathy shout.

He wanted to hold off, lasting a little longer than the four bobs Merlin gave him before he spilled over like a teenager who busted his first load, but those days were no longer. Eggsy came so hard, he lost sight for a moment, and slumped against the sofa like a worn old rag, breathing rapidly because Merlin made sure to give him a final, hard suck and lapped what was left on the head with skill that only years of practice could bring. Eggsy moved according to Merlin’s guidance, ensuring he could slip behind Eggsy who was turned to face their living room, and welcomed his position as the little spoon.

“What about you,” Eggsy asked once he found his voice again. A hand shot out, gesturing behind him, in effort to communicate he meant Merlin's own relief. 

Merlin nuzzled Eggsy’s nape. “I’ll be fine.” Just as he assured Eggsy, a long, thick, warm object—which Eggsy quickly figured out was Merlin’s dick—slipped between his thighs, just below the end of his crack.

“Whaaaa…” Eggsy trailed off, not realizing Merlin had gotten naked, and whimpered delightfully as Merlin fucked himself between Eggsy’s legs.

They were a rather sticky mess by the time Merlin finished, leaving his dick tucked between Eggsy’s thighs, and pulled his back flush to his chest where they fell asleep. To say it was a rather wonderful end to a rather shitty day, would be an understatement.

Despite having the best nights sleep he’d had in weeks, Eggsy not only woke adhered, by Merlin’s come, to his husband, but the worst beard burn on his thighs he’d ever had.

Eggsy ended up walking around Kingsman VERY carefully, because his thighs were thick enough to touch, for the next week, with a very proud husband at home. It was worth every fucking last grimace Eggsy gave when he crossed his legs. 


End file.
